


i wanna do bad things with you

by satincolt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Biting, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Consensual Non-Consent, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Keith (Voltron), Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Breeding Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape Fantasy, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Strap-Ons, Sub Shiro (Voltron), Top Shiro (Voltron), Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Trans Male Keith (Voltron), Trans Shiro (Voltron), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, minor Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 19:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satincolt/pseuds/satincolt
Summary: “I want you to do that to me.  Pin me down.  Fuck me as hard as you can, with everything you’ve got, and don’t you dare stop no matter what I say or what noises I make, unless I say the word ‘red.’”  Keith’s eyes bore deep holes into Shiro’s soul when he meets them.  He nods, breathing an affirmative into the charged, buzzing air between them.





	i wanna do bad things with you

**Author's Note:**

> i was possessed to write this by the Porn Muse and did not stop until the birds were chirping, the sun was rising, and Shiro and Keith had boned thusly. there is literally zero context or plot for this so it can be pre-kerberos, it can be on the castle, it can be at some fancy resort during shore leave; whatever you want it to be. i just wanted to write these boys fucking & really self-indulgently engaging in some of my biggest kinks. completely un-beta'd, written and posted while thoroughly sleep-deprived and running only on the power of boners. enjoy. title comes from Bad Things by Jace Everett

“I want it as hard as you can give it to me.”  Keith’s eyes are nearly glowing with determination in the dim lighting.  Shiro’s mouth goes dry.

“O-okay,” he says, blinking, and Keith fixes him with an even more intense stare.

“I mean it.”

Shiro can only nod as he nearly jumps off the bed, fetching lube and harness and dildos like a well-trained puppy eager to please.  He sets it on the bed for Keith’s inspection.  His boyfriend considers the array for a moment, chewing on his lower lip, before pointing imperiously to a thick, black, well-ribbed squishy dildo.  Shiro doesn’t even need to be told what to do.  He clears away the rejects but before he returns, Keith says,

“Oh, and bring the bullet vibe too.  You never really go all-out on me unless you have the vibrator.”

Shiro has to take a deep breath to collect himself at that, because just the commanding tone in Keith’s voice alone has him wet.  When he turns back around, Keith is leaned back against the pillows, his legs fallen open, two fingers lazily stroking his clit as he surveys Shiro like a high-quality steak at a butcher’s shop.  Shiro stares, transfixed by the slow movement of Keith’s fingers and his piercing eyes.

“Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?”

Shiro finds his words again, swallowing thickly.  “I wouldn’t mind one.”

Keith grins predatorily, then a soft and openly needy expression falls across his face.  Shiro knows it’s a mask, it’s a damn good one, but he’s so weak for it.  _“Shiro,”_ Keith croons, voice pitched almost to a whine, “I need you to fuck me; I need your big, fat cock, baby, _please, please fuck me—”_  Keith doesn’t even get to finish his sentence.  Shiro crosses the room in half a second and throws himself onto the bed, flattening Keith against the pillows, crushing their mouths together.  Keith moans into the harsh kiss and presses himself up against Shiro, his long, lean-muscled legs wrapping themselves around Shiro’s waist.  He’s just thrown himself willingly into the predator’s embrace and he can’t bring himself to find anything wrong with it.

Nipping at Shiro’s bottom lip, Keith angles his head and lets his one free hand rove, trailing down Shiro’s arm.  “Give it,” he growls against Shiro’s lips and Shiro’s already relinquishing control of the vibrator to his boyfriend.  An arm loops itself around Shiro’s neck, fingers burying themselves in his hair and tugging moans from his throat.  The cool, velvety plastic of the vibrator touches his neck, slides down over his collarbones, across his chest, skirts a nipple.  Then it buzzes to life and pulls a deep groan out of Shiro.  Keith traces the edge of his areola then jumps to the other side of Shiro’s chest to tease his other nipple.  Shiro bites Keith’s lower lip and rolls his hips down into Keith’s, but Keith doesn’t give in.  He circles around and around, getting closer but never touching the sensitive buds until Shiro’s straining for it.  He can practically feel the air vibrating, almost imagining phantom vibrations on his nipples.

“Please, Keith,” he whispers against the seam of Keith’s lips, not above begging this early.  Keith doesn’t mind.  He chuckles softly and Shiro seizes his opportunity to lick into Keith’s open mouth.  Then Keith finally presses the vibrator to Shiro’s nipple and every single thought in Shiro’s head screeches to a halt.  He moans wantonly, caught between pulling away from the intense sensation and grinding into it.

“That’s a good boy,” Keith murmurs, voice already rough at the edges.  It turns him on just to see Shiro come apart so easily, and who is Shiro to deny his boyfriend that pleasure?  Keith presses the vibrator harder into Shiro’s chest, forcing a whine out of him as the sensation creeps towards ‘too much,’ switching to the other side at the last moment. 

_“Keith, please,”_ Shiro whines, clit aching to be touched.

“Please what, Takashi?”

Shiro forces his eyes open to the sight of a maddeningly calm-looking Keith watching him come apart with the sort of mild interest with which one would read a celebrity magazine.  His eyes flicker up to meet Shiro’s and a small grin curls across his face.  His pupils have nearly swallowed the heather purple of his irises, a dead giveaway.  With every ounce of his concentration, Shiro grinds his hips down into Keith again just to watch that calm mask slip a little when his eyelids flutter so prettily and his mouth falls open ever so slightly.

“Thought you wanted something from me,” Shiro pants.  Keith composes himself again, yanks Shiro down for another bruising kiss.  The vibrator disappears from Shiro’s skin but he can still hear it, almost feel it ghosting across his skin.

“Baby,” Keith says, too put-together, “remember what we talked about?”  Shiro kisses Keith harder, intent on licking the back side of his teeth, until Keith bites Shiro’s tongue as punishment for ignoring him.  “Answer me.”

Shiro pulls back with difficulty, pressing his forehead against Keith’s.  “We talk about a lot of things, honey.”

“When we talked about ‘no’ meaning ‘yes’ and ‘red’ meaning ‘no.’”  Shiro doesn’t open his eyes immediately, instead fighting through the fog of arousal to try to conjure up that conversation.  It stirs something in his memories.  Keith nuzzles his cheek.  The vibrator buzzes on, floating somewhere unknown between Keith’s and Shiro’s bodies.

“I remember,” Shiro says finally, giving Keith a quick peck on the lips.

“I want you to do that to me.  Pin me down.  Fuck me as hard as you can, with everything you’ve got, and don’t you dare stop no matter what I say or what noises I make, unless I say the word ‘red.’”  Keith’s eyes bore deep holes into Shiro’s soul when he meets them.  He nods, breathing an affirmative into the charged, buzzing air between them.  Keith holds Shiro’s gaze a beat longer before softening.

“Good boy.”  The vibrator pushes up against Shiro’s swollen, achingly hard clit and a strangled shout escapes his throat.  It feels so deliciously good; he grinds harder into it, trapping the vibrator between their two bodies.  Keith readjusts beneath him until they’re effectively scissoring the vibrator between their clits.  A pleased groan leaves Keith’s lips and Shiro watches his head fall back, baring that beautiful throat of his as his entire body relaxes and goes pliable.  Keith’s just handed the reins over to Shiro.  Shiro licks his lips and dives in.

He sinks his teeth into Keith’s soft, freshly-shaven skin; that alone has him gasping.  Shiro worries the skin between his teeth, sucking hard to the point where it’s got to be painful, but Keith just goes tense beneath him and grinds harder up against the vibrator.  Shiro pulls back to assess his work.  Already the bruise is mauve, mouth-shaped and ringed by teeth marks.  He moves to make an identical mark mirrored across the line of Keith’s windpipe which bobs with every gasp and swallow.  Mark after mark appears across the canvas of Keith’s neck until Shiro revisits the first bite.  Keith’s whines reach a clearly-pained pitch, obviously made through gritted teeth.  One of Shiro’s hands finds Keith’s chest and brushes across his nipples, Shiro’s hand so broad in comparison to Keith’s narrow body that his thumb and little finger span the distance between the two intimately sensitive buds.  The pain in Keith’s moans becomes confused with pleasure when Shiro presses down on the vibrator and his nipples simultaneously right as the taste of blood hits Shiro’s tongue.

“No more, no more,” Keith whines pathetically above Shiro’s head.  Shiro almost pulls off at that, but then reminds himself that ‘no’ means ‘yes’ right now, even though part of him balks at going against Keith’s direct words.  After a few more moments, Shiro can’t take the heavy, coppery taste of Keith’s blood anymore and Keith is starting to wiggle as if trying to escape.  Shiro kisses Keith forcibly, making him taste his own blood.  He pulls off with one final suck on Keith’s bottom lip, then sits back.

Keith is a _mess_ already.  His entire neck is thickly decorated with dark bruises, purple and red, spanning from his jaw to upper chest where they thin out, looking like gruesome flowers falling from his sharp jawline.  A few fat, gleaming drops of blood stand out on Keith’s throat bare millimeters from where his carotid pulses just under the skin.  His whole face is flushed darkly, brows furrowed, forehead shimmering with sweat in the low light, hair splayed dark across the pillows like ink dripped into water.  His lips are pink and puffy, kiss-bitten and parted as he sucks in frantic breaths.  Shiro knows pain and pleasure are at war for him right now, especially as Shiro pinches both Keith’s nipples hard.  A ragged, high cry bordering on a scream tears itself from Keith’s chest as it arches off the bed.  Shiro hums approvingly and rolls his hips a few times, grinning as Keith’s scream wavers and breaks with each new pulse of pleasure.

It’s time to move on to the main event.  Shiro’s patience is running thin now, most of it spent on creating the sadistic masterpiece on Keith’s throat.  He removes himself from between Keith’s legs, not missing the soft _“ah”_ of disappointment as the vibrator falls to the bed where it buzzes angrily against the mattress.  Then, in one smooth movement, Shiro grabs Keith’s hips with bruising force and flips him over, pressing his face into the pillows and raising his ass into the air.

“No!  I wanna be on my back, I don’t want it like this,” Keith cries, struggling to roll back over.  Shiro pushes down on another wave of _‘obey Keith’_ and ignores the plaintive cries, instead harshly yanking Keith towards him.  Keith yelps but doesn’t stop struggling.

“Stop squirming,” Shiro growls.

“No!” Keith shouts, arms flailing.  His fists lock onto a pillow.  Shiro grabs a fistful of Keith’s hair and forces his face into the mattress, muffling his screams until his body goes limp.

“Stay there.  Don’t move.”  Shiro lets up on Keith’s head.  He immediately turns his face and gasps desperately, but doesn’t move while Shiro puts on the harness and slicks the dildo with a generous amount of lube.  He wipes the excess carelessly across Keith’s cunt; the man makes a small noise at the sudden coldness of it.  Tear tracks glisten on Keith’s cheeks, his eyes dark and watery where he watches Shiro between locks of his hair.

“Don’t, please don’t,” Keith whimpers, trying pitifully one last time to roll over, scoot away from Shiro, but he’s trapped by an iron grip on his left hip.  It will leave bruises as one finger trails across his swollen pussy lips.

“I don’t think you mean that,” Shiro says cruelly.  “Your wet little cunt says otherwise.”

“No,” Keith whispers weakly, a sob breaking in his abused throat when Shiro pushes a single finger into his cunt.  Shiro swallows.  Keith’s insides have always been intoxicating a drug to Shiro—plush, wet, hot, soft; he has to concentrate to resist the urge to just lovingly finger and lick his boyfriend to completion.  Keith wants it rough right now and what Keith wants, Keith gets.  He pumps his finger a few times, roughly adding a second without giving Keith’s body any time to become accustomed to the stretch.  Then he removes his fingers, grabs Keith’s hips in a vice grip, and slams Keith back onto his silicone cock.

_“Fuck!”_ Keith screams in genuine pain at the intrusion and the apology is already on Shiro’s lips when Keith turns his head to fix Shiro with a fearsome glare and a growled, “don’t you _dare_ stop, Shirogane.”  Shiro nods quickly, his cunt pulsing at Keith’s dominant tone.  Then Keith’s head drops and he hisses through his teeth as Shiro moves him back and forth, not even thrusting, only using his strength to use Keith like a glorified cocksleeve.  He tells Keith as much, and that gets a strangled whine out of him.

“Are you gonna fuck me like you mean it?  _Harder,”_ Keith demands and it’s at that point Shiro remembers the vibrator where it’s rumbling away next to his right knee.  He tucks it into the harness, right up against his clit, and his hips immediately snap forwards of their own volition, burying his cock deep in Keith’s body.  It produces the most beautiful broken moan.

Shiro sets a harsh pace, fucking into Keith hard and deep and fast only to feel the vibrator grinding hard and deep and fast against his needy clit.  Keith pants in sync with Shiro’s thrusting, breathing fast and shallow, each exhale a whine, a moan.  Shiro rises up, adjusting one leg to drive even deeper into Keith’s bow-tight body.  When he moves his hands, finger-shaped bruises have already blossomed across the bone of Keith’s iliac crests.  Shiro leans over and bites down hard on the edge of a mark on Keith’s neck; the action pulls a breathless scream from the man.

He’s got to be getting lightheaded at this point with how fast he’s panting.  Shiro clicks the vibrator up to the next highest setting, openly moaning at the intensified sensation.  He redoubles his pace, chasing his own orgasm now.  It’s truly brutal.  He’s plowing into Keith at a cruel angle, going faster and faster until Keith’s noises become one long, unbroken cry. 

“Stop, please stop, oh god, _please,_ it hurts, stop,” Keith gasps.  Shiro bites his lip.

“I’m so close,” he grunts, shifting his position again.  He must hit a sensitive spot inside Keith because the man _screams_ like a cat in heat, trailing off into sobbing broken only by his desperate, feeble attempts to suck in air to his oxygen-starved lungs.  Tension is coiling in Shiro’s groin like a wound spring.  He clicks the vibrator up to its highest setting and buries his cock in Keith’s body, climaxing hard against him with arrhythmic thrusts and a rough shout.

Shiro’s orgasm is brutal, wracking his body for what feels like minutes, drowning him in pleasure, deafening him to Keith’s answering cries until it finally abates, leaving him painfully oversensitive.  He turns off the vibrator and catches his breath.  Then he carefully pulls out of Keith and sheds the harness.

He crawls up to Keith, turning his face and ever-so-gently pushing the hair out of his eyes.  He looks a thousand miles away, eyes glassy and distant, though his breathing has evened out some.  “Keith, baby, you with me?” Shiro asks softly, wiping the tears off his boyfriend’s cheek with his thumb.  Keith hums.  “Do you want to cum?”  Keith hums again, but shakes his head ever so slightly.  “Alright, love, let’s get you cleaned up.”

With gentle hands, Shiro rolls Keith onto his back and takes stock of his boyfriend’s state.  His neck’s already been accounted for, but he’s got new bruises across his hips, ass, and lower back in the shape of Shiro’s hands.  His pussy is gaping, wet and red and raw.  Shiro presses an apologetic kiss to Keith’s lower belly, right where he knows Keith loves to be touched, though he’s probably too out of it to really notice right now.  Then he gathers Keith up in his arms and princess-carries him to the bathroom, setting him on the closed toilet lid while he gets the shower ready.

It takes a bit of tricky maneuvering to get them both into the shower, but once under the gloriously warm spray, the last traces of pained tension dissipate from Keith’s frame and swirl down the drain with the water.  Shiro does his best to hold Keith up and wash him at the same time.  It’s no easy feat, but considering Keith is too weak to really stand on his own, it’s what has to be done.  He shampoos Keith’s hair and washes the dried blood and spit off his neck, then washes between his legs with water only.  There’s got to be some tearing, Shiro realizes when the water goes pink, and the last thing he’d want to do is rub soap in the tears. 

Getting out of the shower and wrapping Keith up in a big fluffy towel requires just as much tricky maneuvering as getting him into the shower in the first place, but by the time Shiro’s rubbing Keith dry, he starts to come back to planet Earth a little; enough to stand on his own at least while Shiro fetches his pajamas.  Dressing Keith is a collaborative effort, though Shiro still takes the liberty of carrying him back to bed and tucking him in while Shiro changes.  Then, finally, Shiro crawls into bed with Keith and pulls his boyfriend up against him, tucking his head beneath his chin.  Keith’s shampoo is strong enough at this distance that it overpowers the lingering smell of sex in the room.  Shiro breathes it in, running one hand gently through Keith’s damp hair while the other smooths up and down his spine.

“You were so good for me,” Keith says quietly, rasping, after a while.  Shiro smiles into his hair.

“Did I make you feel good, baby?”

“Yes, you did exactly what I asked you to, and you did it so well.”  Keith presses a small kiss to Shiro’s collarbone.  He puts his arm over Shiro, his fingers tracing idle patterns over the cotton of Shiro’s T-shirt.  Shiro glows at the praise.  Keith rearranges their legs so that they’re fully slotted together under the sheets and he breathes a deep sigh of contentment.

“So I take it that’s something we want to do again?” Shiro asks.  Keith nods into his chest.

“Just… give me time to recover from this round.  Do I want to even see what you did to my neck to make it feel like this?”  Keith laughs dryly.  Then he hums and disentangles himself from Shiro, rolling over in his boyfriend’s arms.  Shiro nuzzles the back of Keith’s neck, pulling him close to spoon him.  His hand rests on Keith’s lower belly, fingers sliding beneath his shirt to feel his soft happy trail and warm skin.

“Maybe next time I could put a baby in you?” Shiro suggests, voice deep and husky in Keith’s ear.  He delights in how that sends a full-body shiver through Keith, who turns his head so that he can kiss Shiro.

“I’d like that.”  Keith’s fingers lace with Shiro’s where they rest over his belly.  They kiss, not caring about the awkward angle, just basking in the syrupy heaviness weighing down their thoughts and limbs.

“I love you, Keith,” Shiro murmurs in between kisses.  Keith smiles against his mouth.

“Love you too, Takashi.”


End file.
